


First Aid

by kazosa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 04:24:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13942542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazosa/pseuds/kazosa
Summary: I had some intense inspiration for this one. Dean Winchester tends to bring that out. One of those nights where if you stop, you know you won’t get it back, so I let this play out…2600 words, some bad language, my attempt at smut (there’s a reason I don’t do this)





	First Aid

**Author's Note:**

> gif is not mine. owner is noted.

 

[Originally posted by deangifsdaily](https://tmblr.co/ZAHB4i2PmXNYM)

Dean had been quiet on the drive back to the motel. He had a weird look on his face that you couldn’t quite pin down. He pulled the Impala into the parking space and gave you a “lil help?” look. Reaching over you moved the gear selector into park for him. He handed you the room key with his left hand. A chunk of…something was sticking out of his right arm and doing anything with that arm was difficult.

You’d taken a couple hard hits to your ribs. You didn’t think anything was broken, but it was the gash on your side that would need to be tended. Gingerly getting out of the car, you took the key, opening the motel door. A few moments later, Dean followed you, putting the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the outside of the door, and locking you both inside.

“You got the first-aid?” he asked.

Giving him a mildly-scathing look, you answered, “ONE TIME I left it at home and you never let it drop.” You pulled the case from your bag and waved it in front of him to see.

“Sit down,” you pointed at the foot of his bed.

He was in no mood to argue, but he not-so-secretly liked it when you got bossy with him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he did nothing to hide his smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him, but smiled when he had his back turned to sit down. Pulling the lamp on the swing-arm closer, you leaned down to look at his arm.

“I can’t see, take it off,” you told him.

“Sweetheart, I thought you’d never ask,” he grinned as he struggled to pull his t-shirt off.

He flirted with you, but he flirted with everyone, so you never took those exchanges seriously. Dean Winchester was a hard man not to notice and you’d had feelings for him for what felt like ages. Being stuck in the hunter friend-zone sucked, but you’d made peace with it.

“You look like a spaz,” you teased. “You got that, tough guy?”

He stopped flailing, half in, half out of his shirt, he sighed heavily. Laying the open first-aid case on the table, you took pity on the spaz and turned to help Dean out of his shirt. Oh, my Chuck, you thought, as you freed him from the offending garment. You’d seen him shirtless many times before, but he never failed to impress.

“Thought it had me there,” he looked at where you tossed his, mostly ruined, shirt.

He was trying to keep the mood light, but you both thought of the close call you’d both just escaped not that long ago. Dean had a last-ditch effort to get you both out of a certain death situation. With last-ditch efforts came serious risks, and part of that risk was sticking out of Dean’s arm. Doing your best to ignore Dean’s nearly naked body, you grabbed the pliers out of the first-aid case.

“Do you find it odd that we have pliers in our first-aid kit?” you asked as you tried to figure out the best way to remove the shrapnel.

“Eh…comes with the territory, but, I gotta know,” he paused, his green eyes mischievous, “Did it look cool…when I shot the thing?”

The massive explosion and resulting fireball had taken out the horde of Shunka Warakin that were chasing you. Neither of you was sure that you’d both be able to make it out alive, so you built the bomb as powerfully as you could. You got a grip on what you could now tell was a Shunka Warakin bone.

“Yeah,” you admitted, “badass.” You looked at his face, “Ready?”

Dean looked pleased for a moment, “Yeah, I kinda thought…”

You yanked the bone fragment out of Dean’s shoulder. Quickly dropping both the pliers and the Shunka Warakin bone, you grabbed the gauze from the first-aid, pressing it firmly to the open wound. Dean let out an inhuman growl, making you suddenly wonder how humans were turned into Shunka Warakin. He laid on his side as you pressed the gauze to his arm. Thankfully, the bone shard hadn’t nicked a major blood vessel and the bleeding almost stopped after a while. It didn’t take you very long to get his stitches put in, you were getting surprisingly good at it. It wasn’t until you cleaned around the wound and put on the waterproof bandage that you realized he’d dozed off. Not that you could blame him, you’d both been awake almost 36 hours.

Unable to resist, you placed a light kiss on the least dirty part of his face before you went to take the hottest shower you could stand. After your shower, you stood in front of the bathroom in your shorts and sports bra, looking at your ribs and the slash on your side. If you hadn’t jumped back at the right moment, you might not have made it out. You could tell nothing was broken, but you had the start of a nasty red and purple bruise down your torso.

You rummaged in the first-aid case for butterfly bandages and the compression wrap.

“(Y|N)? What’s going on?” Dean was still half-asleep.

He took a few moments to get his wits back about him. You’d found the bandages and were desperate for a little relief.

* * *

Sitting up with a groan, he motioned for (Y|N) to get closer. She stood between his knees. Not only was she nearly naked and wearing the shorts that clung to her ass, the evidence of how badly she’d been hurt was on full display. His fingers plied at her ribs, the bruising already looked nasty.

Her breathing was shallow and her skin hot and smelling much better than his own. She made a hissing sound when he found a tender spot. Gentler, he went on, not hating it when she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said, for causing her pain.

“I’ll live,” her voice was low in the quiet of the night.

It happened as if in slow-motion. He leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips to the bruised skin on her ribs. His hands went to the back of her legs, moving up to cup and squeeze the curves of her voluptuous bottom, coming to rest on her hips. Still kissing her ribs and belly, she put her hands in his hair. He didn’t know what made him finally cross that invisible line between them. He’d hoped she wouldn’t tell him to stop, and, so far, she hadn’t, but he made himself stop to look up at her.

“Uh…yeah…let’s get you fixed up,” his voice thick with a lust even he could hear.

He put on the butterfly bandages, then wrapped her in the compression wrap, fastening the stays on her belly. Clearing her throat, she took a step back with an awkward, “thanks.”

He stood up, “I’m, um, I’m… I shouldn’t…I’m just…” he gestured at the bathroom, “Shower.”

* * *

A flurry of questions and expletives ran through your head. Your best friend had kissed your belly and caressed your body and you hadn’t stopped him. In fact, more than anything, you’d wanted it to continue. You’d always told yourself that he never saw you like that. But the way he touched you told you otherwise, it was sensual, and sexy as all hell. You tried to lay down in your bed while Dean showered, but there was no hope of sleep. You could still feel his every touch on your skin. Sleep would never come for you unless you talked to him. The wait was agony.

Finally, he stepped out of the bathroom in only a towel, like he had done so many times before that night. He, clearly, hadn’t expected you to still be awake. Maybe he thought you’d try to be faking sleep, or ignoring what had happened. Instead, you were pacing when he caught your eye.

“You’re still up,” he observed.

“I think we need to talk,” you were hesitant.

His hand was holding the towel in place like his life depended on it.

“Look, about earlier… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he began.

You shook your head, “Dean, I…”

He cut you off, holding up a hand, “No, let me finish. I let my feelings…” he could barely make eye contact, “…for you get away from me. I thought something might have changed, that you wanted me, too.”

You took a few steps closer to him, unable to believe your ears.

“You thought I didn’t want you?” you were incredulous.

Dean raised his free hand and shrugged with his good shoulder.

“We flirt all the time, but it never goes anywhere. We share motel rooms, I see you like this and it drives me crazy…” he motioned at your lack of clothing.

He took a few steps toward you.

“You’re no better,” you gestured to his towel. “Blind people notice you. I see the girls that you pick up in the bar, I just know I’m not your type.”

He gave a rueful laugh, “None of them ever meant anything, and who says you aren’t EXACTLY my type? Look, I’m not a monk and I’ve never said I wasn’t. And it was no picnic watching guys hit on you when I’m sitting right next to you…” he trailed off.

“…so close, but not touching, wishing I was the one you wanted. Needing some kind of physical contact, but never getting it,” you filled in the blanks and closed the space between you and Dean, still not quite touching.

Looking into his eyes, you could see the raw emotion pouring out of him, begging you to tell him what to do.

For the first time ever, you didn’t hold back where Dean was concerned. You reached your hand up to his cheek, palm scratched by the 3 days of beard growth. His eyes closed as he pressed into the hand on his cheek, his much larger hand coming up to cover yours.

“Dean.”

The sound of your voice made him open his eyes again. Your other hand came up to rest on the tattoo on his chest. You looked up at him, your eyes stopping on his lips. He could feel you pulling him down to you.

His lips were just as soft and as full as you dreamed they would be. He forgot about holding his towel and wrapped his arm around you, keeping you tight against his body. The kiss was tender and longing, like he’d waited forever to kiss you and wanted to relish the sensation. You opened your mouth to him, needing more and he was happy to oblige but at his own pace. Breaking apart to catch your breath, your forehead rested on his chin as you breathed into his chest.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you thought out loud.

He did a little spin with you toward your bed, his arousal for you doing little to keep the towel on. His hands cupped your face as his lips found yours again, his thumbs stroking your jaw. Heat radiated off his body, warming you, too.

Your hands slid down his warm, strong back grabbing and squeezing his as like he’d done to you. Still kissing him, you smiled a little as the towel finally gave up, falling to the floor, leaving him fully naked.

You needed to see him in all his glory, scars, injuries and all. You saw none of his imperfections, all you saw was how they made him perfect. Stepping close to him again, your kisses intensified, leaving you both hungry for more. Reaching between you, your hand grasped his rigid cock, stroking him a few times making him moan as you moved.

* * *

She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe it was finally happening. He’d cared for her for a long time, maybe even loved her just as long. She wasn’t some random waitress in some random town…

While he loved the magic her hands were doing, he needed to see her, all of her. His hands left the tangle of her hair and he gently pushed her back. As if reading his mind, she pulled off her bra, showing him the breasts he’d often daydreamed about. When she pushed her shorts down, he went with them, dropping to his knees in front of her.

He wrapped his arm around her leg, lifting it over his shoulder and she rested her foot on the bed behind him. His lips went to her thigh first, tongue tracing a line to her hip. He needed to taste her, all of her. Ever so slowly, he made his way to her center. Her wet folds were exposed to him. Needing to taste her, his tongue licked a stripe from her wet opening up to her clit.

Her hands were in his hair encouraging him and he was not going to disappoint her. He licked and sucked at her clit until he started to feel her legs shaking.

* * *

He stood up leaving you feeling empty again. His good arm grasped your leg on the bed and you could feel the heat of his cock on your folds.

“Lay down,” you ordered.

He did ask you asked and you straddled his hips, rubbing your folds along his length. Putting your hand on his chest, you raised your hips as he held himself in place for you to slide onto him. You’d often wondered what Dean was like, but he exceeded expectations. He was thicker than you thought, and you had to slowly ease your way down, giving yourself time to stretch for him.

You arched your back and rolled your hips in a circle getting used to him. He sat up pulling you to him giving you both the motion you needed. Your arms went over his shoulders as his lips went into your neck, using his shoulders for leverage. Your hand traced the muscles in his back, your other hand in his hair scratching his scalp. You could feel yourself starting to get closer each time he rocked with you. You ground into Dean building up to your release.

Dean’s fingertips dug into your hips as he made you grind deeper on him. The walls of your core fluttered, and Dean moved his thumb to your clit bringing you to a hard orgasm. Thrusting up into you to ride out your orgasm, Dean soon had his own.

“Oh…” he panted hard, “…wow.”

He his hand went to your neck as he kissed you between breaths. His head rested on your collar bone.

“Dean?” you whispered. “I can’t move.”

“That good, huh, sweetheart?” he smirked.

“You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

He kissed your collarbone and used his good arm to gently roll you off of him and onto the bed. He leaned over you, brushing back stray strands of hair.

“I’m proud of us,” he said, his voice rumbling in his deep timbre.

Your fingertips traced the lines around his eyes and the bones of his cheek. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. It was like you’d denied yourself so long, you had to make up for all you’d missed.

“What are we going to do now?” you asked.

He smiled at you, as he laid down next to you, pulling the covers up around you both, “We’re gonna sleep, then we’re gonna make our way back to Kansas.”

“We’re a long way from Kansas,” you snuggled into him, hand on his chest. “Maybe we’ll find a case on the way or Baby will break down,” you said.

He nodded, “Yeah, maybe. Never can tell what will happen on the road.”


End file.
